


Fear

by Anonymous



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bondage, First Time Blow Jobs, Isolation, Kidnapping, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Multi, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sensory Deprivation, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2020-12-31 18:13:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21150035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Seventeen is successful, but Pledis is still strapped for cash. When a mysterious man comes forward with the offer of a lifetime. A better, more lucrative way to use their idols on the black market. Pledis agrees to piloting the program, and the 96line members of seventeen are whisked away to a facility to train under a new regime, under the guise of self improvement.





	1. Chapter 1

Jun looks warily at the man standing over him, unable to maintain eye contact. His eyes keep shifting to the door where he’d been singled out from his bandmates. Is this another prank, he wonders, hunching over. There’s no mannequins here, but it’s rare for him to ever be alone.

With a stranger.

“Hello, Junhui,” the man greets with a smile.

Jun gives a shallow nod, forcing on a smile as he keeps his shoulders up close to his ears.

The man takes a seat across the table for him and the door shuts on his own. The sound of it makes Jun jump, but he quickly settles himself back in his seat.

“Do you know why you’re here, Jun?” the man asks.

Jun lifts his head, raising both his eyebrows as he tries to recall anything he’s done to land him here, “A prank?”

The man shakes his head.

Jun bites his lip, “A check in?”

“CEO Han is upset with you.”

Jun blinks, shoulders rearing back so he can sit up proper, “What? Why?”

“What do you mean why, Jun? Shouldn’t you already know that?”

Jun blinks more, mouth left open in shock as he runs through his head any reason for the leader of his company to be upset with him, personally. He hasn’t been sick, hasn’t gotten hurt, hasn’t messed up a live performance since Aju Nice…Sure, he’s been a bit annying in the dorms but…

He frowns, fingers gripping hold of his knees, “Noise complaint?”

“That’s part of it,” the man agrees, standing up and leaning his hands against the table. Jun can’t help but shrink back a little, keeping his gaze on the table to think what other transgressions he could have possible done. Sure he forgets how loud he can be, and sometimes he stomps in the halls, but he’s always quiet during vlives, and doesn’t veer off script in performances.

The man sinks a bit closer, bending his forearms so his face gets close to Jun’s own, and Jun can’t help craning his neck away instinctively, even if the man isn’t _that_ close. The man shakes his head, like Jun has done something wrong. Had he? Jun’s not so sure. He tightens his grip on his knees under the table.

“We’ve gotten complaints,” the man continues, taking a few steps away from the table, but letting his fingers drag across the wood, “From your bandmates.”

Now this, _this_ is shocking. Jun’s eyes widen, hands falling limp as he whirls his head to look at the man, “What? Really?”

The man nods.

Jun searches his face, and finds spare traces of sympathy that make the blow hurt more. He looks back down at the table top, “What, what did they say?”

The man pulls out his phone and begins to read.

“Jun is too loud with everything he does it’s distracting. He’s very annoying in the dorms and during practice. It’s hard to focus with all the jumping around he does. Jun talks to much about nothing. Jun can’t focus on anything.”

With each statement Jun’s shoulders wilt inwards. It’s not that the statements are new. He’s heard them before throughout his life, but, it’s new to hear from his band mates. From his family away from home. He had no idea they felt this way about him. He grips the edge of his shirt tightly.

The man puts an arm on Jun’s holder, which makes him tense up, lifting his head up to look at him.

“Do you know why you’re here Jun?”

Jun shakes his head, which has the man tsking at him.

“You really are slow aren’t you Jun?”

Jun shakes his head again, frown deepening. He was top of his class in China. Sometimes Korean flew over his head but he wasn’t _slow_. The man ignores him, giving a long sigh, “You’re here because Pledis wants you to get rid of these bad habits of yours. For the sake of the team.”

“How?” Jun asks, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“There are a variety of ways to help you. How succesful they are really depends onyou. But until you get sorted, you won’t be able to tour with Seventeen, and if there isn’t any improvement at all, we may be forced to terminate your contract.”

Jun’s eyes widen, startling out of his chair, “What? But! I can, I didn’t know. I can do better now!”

The man shakes his head, “Your behavior has gone unchecked long enough, Jun. It’s now a detriment to all of Seventeen. Do you want to be the reason for Seventeen’s failure?”

Jun shakes his quickly. Of course he doesn’t.

“So then, let us help you. Pledis has stepped in because we believe in you and your capabilities, we wouldn’t expend all this effort in you otherwise. Do you really want to throw that all away.”

“No, I—” Jun frowns, scrunching his eyebrows, “I don’t—”

“Your presence, the way you are now, will only drag Seventeen down further. That is clear to us, to CEO Han, to the rest of Seventeen.”

Jun looks down at the table, fingers squeezing into his palms.

The man’s hand returns to his shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly, “But it’s not too late Jun. We can help you. We can fix you.”

“How?” Jun asks, looking up with big glassy eyes.

The man smiles, bringing a hand up to smooth Jun’s bangs away from his eyes, “Most of these vices are engrained deep within you. It will take a lot of work, but in time we can break it down and remold you to who you are. Who Seventeen needs you to be. Do you understand?”

Jun bites his lip, before giving a resigned nod, “I understand.”

* * *

Wonwoo stares at the man, frown severe on his face, “What’s going on?”

“Shouldn’t you already know?” The man standing above him asks. Wonwoo is not impressed, as he looks around the room he had been herded into. Jun had been shoved into the room previous. He assumes Soonyoung and Jihoon were in the neighboring rooms too.

“How would I know when you haven’t told me?” Wonwoo responds, “Where did you take Junhui?”

“You should be worrying about yourself,” the man continues. Wonwoo holds his gaze, crossing his arms. He makes a circulatory glance around the room for cameras. There’s one diagonal from him, but it looks more for security purposes than entertainment. But maybe Pledis has signed them up for another cruel reality show.

Wonwoo frowns, “Where’s Seungcheol hyung?” He wants to see his leader. He would know what to do and what was going on. He wouldn’t trust a stranger’s word.

“Seungcheol has made a gambit with your CEO.”

Wonwoo blinks, “What?”

“Seventeen is doing alright, but it could be doing better. Should be doing better. Some members are more popular than others. Pledis feels it best to retire some of you and bring in new talent with new skills.”

Wonwoo stares at him, and he wishes he could brush off the ludicrous statement as a lie but he could see Pledis doing it. “What’s the gambit?”

“Seungcheol insisted that Seventeen had to stay together, that you were all too devoted to one other.”

Wonwoo nods in agreement.

“CEO Han said, you are only as devoted as your weakest link.”

Wonwoo looks away.

“You’re quite mean in interviews aren’t you Wonwoo? Constantly bickering with Soonyoung, making Mingyu do your bidding, you even called Junhui ugly—“

“That!” Wonwoo’s voice raises, struggling for defense, “That doesn’t mean I don’t—-They know it’s just teasing.”

“Do they?” The man asks, putting a hand on his shoulders, “Are you sure?”

Wonwoo swallows, feeling tense under the man’s hand. The man pulls out his phone and begins to read from it, “When asked to rank which member uplifted the team the most, you were ranked lowest on everyone’s list. Adjectives used to describe you were cold, cruel, unsympathetic and antagonistic.”

Wonwoo tried to shake the weight of the man’s hand from his shoulders, and although the hand left, the weight of the words left behind felt all the heavier. He grit his teeth and repeats himself, “What was the gambit?”

“For whatever reason, Seungcheol still believed in his original statement. And so Pledis offered to keep everyone as long as you, Wonwoo, had your devotion tested, and began to change your image.”

“Fine, I’ll smile more.”

“It’s not so simple. This behavior is affecting your bandmates. We need to change you from the inside out, we need to remold you, so that you don’t drag the rest of Seventeen down with you. Unless, do you want Seventeen to disband?”

“Of course not!”

“So you understand you need to change? And to trust in this process? To prove your devotion to the team?”

Wonwoo swallows, looking down at the table, “I understand.”

* * *

Soonyoung smiles cheerily at the man standing before him. He glances around the dim room, checking for cameras or mannequins or anything amiss. But its a fairly simple empty room.

Pledis had summoned him and the rest of 96line into a van for some specific schedule. Pledis had a tendency not to forwarn them about these things, which was annoying. He’d been busy choreographing the next Performance team song for the new album. At least he had Jun with him to run things over with. And Jihoon too, of course.

He’s sure Jihoon must be pissed.

The thought makes him smile.

“Do you know why you’re here, Soonyoung?”

“Nope!” Soonyoung grins.

The man lets out a sigh, but Soonyoung assumes its an aborted laugh, the kind Wonwoo has when he’s trying to be difficult.

“Pledis is disappointed in you.”

Soonyoung blinks, tilting his head “Why?”

“You’ve become too soft.”

Soonyoung lifts his hand to feel at his rounded cheeks. They are a bit pudgy but… He frowns.

“Not that,” the man says, “Though it wouldn’t hurt,” he adds as an after thought, “Your leadership has gone soft.”

Soonyoung furrows his brows, “What do you mean?”

“You haven’t done nearly enough work on the new album. You keep allowing your bandmates to take breaks. You don’t command any respect, not even within your own team.”

“I do,” Soonyoung snaps back, crossing his arms.

“Minghao talks back to you, Dino is more talented than you, and Jun…You let Jun do whatever he pleases.”

Soonyoung glares at him, “Not all the time.”

“But most of the time?”

Soonyoung looks away, “We all have different styles.”

“And Pledis has decided your style isn’t working for Seventeen. Everyone has noticed it.”

“What?” Soonyoung asks, whirling back around, shocked, “What did they say?”

The man pulls out his phone, reading quotes from it in his standard monotone, “Sometimes I forget Soonyoung is a leader, because he’s so childish. He’s not very smart. Chan is a better dancer and better fit for leader. He has clear favorites and lets them get away with anything. I don’t respect him.”

“They wouldn’t say that!” Soonyoung insists.

“Not to your face,” the man concedes, “But it’s gotten bad enough for CEO Han to have to step in.”

Soonyoung pauses, looking down at the tabletop, and a smaller voice than intended, asks, “Really?”

“That’s why you’re here Soonyoung, so that we can help you. Help you become a better leader. A leader that commands respect.”

Soonyoung purses his lips, “Okay.”

“To do so we’ll be hard. We’ll have to reshape you, from the inside out. For the good of Seventeen. Do you understand?”

Soonyoung feels his shoulders droop, “I understand.”

* * *

Jihoon frowns when the door he had just stepped through closes shut. He looks around the dimly lit empty room. Concrete floors and concrete walls. No window. He frowns more

The man towers over him, but that isn’t all that disconcerting. It doesn’t both him as he leans back in his chair to look at him with a bored expression.

“Do you know why you’re here, Jihoon?”

Jihoon can guess a few possibilities: a reality show, a business meeting. Maybe they were announcing a new subunit, since only the other members born in his year were summoned into the van. But then why separate them? It must be some sort of reality show skit. Another prank?

Jihoon shrugs, eyes catching on the singular camera in the room. “For a show?”

The man shakes his head, sinking into the chair across from him. Jihoon looks at him.

“Pledis is thinking of disbanding Seventeen.”

Jihoon’s eyes widen, body lurching forward, “What?” He forces himself to lay back, trying to relax his shoulders, “Why? We just broke our album sales record.”

The man nods, “Number are not everything. CEO Han has noticed the discordance within your group. Seventeen is close to breaking down. Better to dsiband on a high note.”

“That’s not—Why would he think that?”

“Do you really not see it?” the man asks, leaning forward, “Everyone else in the band has all agreed.”

Jihoon stares at him, unconvinced, “What are you talking about?”

“You work hard, sometimes Jihoon. But other times, you sleep. You don’t leave your room. You lay around and make others do things for you. It’s gotten worse, lately, hasn’t it?”

“All the work gets done.” Jihoon insists.

“Perhaps, but it tells the team they can no longer depend on you.”

“Yes they can,” Jihoon replies, “Of course they can.”

“They don’t think so. You don’t inspire much confidence in them. It’s been aparent enough for CEO Han to be called in.”

“Then where are they? Let them say it to me.”

“So aggressive, no wonder they also find you unapproachable and mean spirited.”

Jihoon frowns, and finds himself unable to speak.

The man sighs, “Seungcheol was able to buy Seventeen some time, by agreeing about your vices.”

“Seungcheol?”

“But, he had faith you could change. He insisted you could become a better team player, a more dependable person. That you wouldn’t fail Seventeen by sticking to your own pride. That you would agree to change. Unless you want Seventeen to disband? Do you think you would be stronger without them? Going solo?”

“No, of course not,” Jihoon says quickly, “We’re staying together.”

“We’ve set up a program here to help you adapt to these changes to make Seventeen better, and closer than ever before. We’re piloting it with the four of you to start.”

“What do they have to do with my faults?” Jihoon insists.

“How else do we test out how succesful your changes are, then by seeing you interact with your group mates after we begin the program.

Something prickles at Jihoon skin. He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t trust any of it. He frowns deeply, squeezing his hands into fists at the table.

“So, will you set down your pride for the rest of Seventeen and prove you are, actually someone they depend on? It will be difficult, we’ll have to test your limits. Do you understand.”

He doesn’t. But he knows they will just keep asking him until he agrees, so he does, nodding slowly, “I understand.”

* * *

The man, Hwang Kil, sits back as he looks over the camera monitors. He’d left the boys for a while now, after speaking to each individually and sowing the seeds doubt in all their minds. He is very lucky to have found CEO Han in a spot, desperate for money for the company, and willing to rent out some of their members. Once he’d explained the kind of money that could be found in the business, Pledis was more than happy to let him have the pick of the litter.

This was all a pilot, but he wanted to protect his bases. To appeal to all the tastes out in the world.

Jun, the obvious sexual beauty.

Wonwoo, the stoic man to be broken.

Soonyoung, the energetic youth.

Woozi, the foul mouthed cherub.

All different, all appealing in their own way. All could be broken down and remolded into the perfect pets for the black market.

All they needed was time and specific encouragement.

It was time to begin.


	2. Chapter 2

Wonwoo feels like he should be excited about being directed to his own room. He hadn’t had his own room since he moved out of his family’s home in middle school. He’d never had any space to call completely his own.

But this isn’t his own.

This is an impersonal, bland room, with a bed and connecting bathroom. (Not that Wonwoo would have decorated a room, he probably would have left it just as bland, but it’s the thought that matters.) Its uncomfortably sterile, white walls, white thin sheets, white tile floor. No windows. Where were all the windows? Were they underground?

They must be. His phone gets no service. The wi-fi is dubious at best. It was better in the room he had initially been in, but here, only the flicker of one bar lights the corner of his phone. He frowns.

There’s a dresser in the room, and inside he finds spare clothing, just as bland as the room. He’s thankful though, he hadn’t really packed to stay for long.

How long were they staying here?

Were…were the others still here? Or had they been excused. Jun and Soonyoung were the friendliest guys in Seventeen, he doubts they would have been kept. Jihoon maybe, but Jihoon was too important, too necessary. It’s probably just him here.

Which is for the best, honestly. He’s fine with solitude. Seeks it out most of the time back in the dorms. Jihoon likes a good deal of solitude too, he would be fine. Soonyoung would get antsy. He would probably just focus on work to distract himself from it. Play his music loud to drown out the silence.

Jun would—

Wonwoo frowns severely, glancing over at the door.

Jun hates being alone. Constantly seeking someone else to lean against, to hold, to cuddle, to annoy, to laugh with, to be in the presence of. Jun, the one who has always insisted on having a roommate, even jumping at the chance to stay in the triple. Jun who loved sleeping beside another warm body.

Wonwoo doesn’t want to think about how someone like Jun would react to the current circumstance.

But what if he’s still here, and he _is_ alone?

He moves to the door and tries the knob. It doesn’t turn. His eyes widen and he pushes against the door. It doesn’t budge. He bangs on it.

It opens, and Hwang Kil steps in with a smile, “You rang?”

“Why is the door locked from the outside?” Wonwoo asks, unamused.

“Pledis insisted on your safety. This building is a maze, we don’t want you all wondering around and getting lost.”

Wonwoo is unconvinced, “Are the rest of us still here?”

The man hums.

Wonwoo frowns further, “Jun needs a roommate. So does Soonyoung. Pair them up.”

Hwang Kil smiles, “Don’t worry, Wonwoo. We know what your bandmates need. The three of them are together.”

“Oh,” Wonwoo says, calming down instantly. Something new grips his heart instead—the early twinges of jealousy.

“We figured you would like your alone time, you are always asking for it, correct? Finding the rest of them so annoying. We figured the regiment we will be putting on you is a tough one, it makes sense to reward you before it begins.”

“Oh,” Wonwoo repeats, stepping back, “I guess.”

Hwang Kil nods, “This is good, if you miss them.”

“I don’t _miss_ them,” Wonwoo quickly replies, “It’s only been a few hours.”

Hwang Kil hums, “Time will make you miss them, and missing them shows you care.”

“Is that why I’m alone?” Wonwoo asks, confused, “I thought you said—”

“Two birds one stone,” Hwang Kil touches his shoulder, “Rest Wonwoo, we have a big day tomorrow.”

Wonwoo lets him go, crossing his arms tight around his chest. He tries not to think about how cold he feels and decides to do as the man suggested and rest.

He doesn’t realize the vents in the room beginning to blow cold air into the room. But he does end up shivering all night.

* * *

Jun can’t sleep.

The door is locked and wont budge and he is alone, horribly, horribly alone. His bed is too small for his long legs. He has not slept alone in six years. He doesn’t like it. He can’t even ask them to let him out.

Hwang Kil had told him it was an important part of the deal. It was designed to help him stay quiet and hold back his urges to speak unnecessarily, to be loud, etcetera. All the things he did unconsciously that was hurting the rest of Seventeen. It looked more terrifying than anything, but faced with the consequence of being removed from the band, what other choice did he have?

He touches the leather over his mouth, pressed tight against his lips. Leather straps lined his jaw and around his head. Two more held the top corners of the gag up and crisscrossed over his nose before meeting the jaw straps at the back of his neck. It was locked in place, and although it didn’t hurt, it definitely wasn’t comfortable.

He _could_ shout through the gag, but he doesn’t want to get in trouble, or worse, disappoint his teammates by failing the first test put on him. He couldn’t do that. He needed to become better for them.

Still, it did seem a bit extreme.

He twists his fingers around the thin sheets, curling into a tight ball so he can fit in the small bed. He sniffles a little and quickly presses his face into the pillow. He needs to calm down. One night alone would not kill him. It was his own fault he was here, anyway. He just wishes the rest of Seventeen had said something themselves instead of having to hear it from this stranger Pledis hired to help him.

It hurt.

It felt like betrayal.

He bites his lip beneath the gag.

He’s not going to disappoint them anymore.

He’s going to be good.

He’ll be good.

He squeezes his eyes shut, but sleep never comes.

* * *

Soonyoung tosses and turns, his room unnecessarily warm. He’s stripped to his underwear, conscious of the security camera in the room, but too tired to care too much. He can’t think straight from the heat and unfamiliar surroundings.

He worries about Jun and hopes he has a roommate.

He worries about Jihoon staying up to do work somehow. (Never mind the fact Soonyoung had considered doing that too, until he realized he had no service to access the cloud drive of files they shared).

He worries about Wonwoo and then shakes the thought away as unnecessary. Nothing fazes Wonwoo to begin with.

He throws the covers away, spreading out on the bed as he sweats.

At least he’s alone.

He never thought he would think that.

* * *

Jihoon sleeps.

* * *

Jun is roused awake by a hand on his shoulder. He thinks its Minghao, urging him to get up after oversleeping. He must have missed breakfast. He sits up, rubbing his eyes, feeling the hard leather on his face like a douse of cold water.

He looks into Hwang Kil’s sympathetic eyes.

He tries to say something through the leather but it comes out muffled and mangled.Hwang Kil’s eyebrows tilt upwards, and he presses a finger to the leather against Jun’s lips, “Jun, you’re doing so well, I don’t want to make it harder.”

Jun blinks, unable to shrink away from the touch.

Hwang Kil sits beside him on the bed, letting out a sigh. Jun stares at him, and notices the one camera in the corner has been covered by a sheet. He blinks again.

Hwang Kil follows his eyes and winks, pressing his fingers to his own lips this time.He sighs again, “Jun, I can tell you’re doing your best. You just have a lot of energy, especially when you’re happy? And you don’t know what to do with the energy. You want to show your bandmates how happy you are, and so you give them attention. You shout out your love.”

Jun’s eyes widen and he nods, trying to agree verbally around the leather. Hwang Kil reminds him to be quiet again, giving a quick glance at the covered camera. Jun, grips the sheets tight.

“I am going to be honest with you, Jun,” Hwang Kil says, voice dropping, “I think the way you show love is wonderful, and I don’t understand why Pledis has hired me to change that.”

Jun tilts his head, leaning forward in surprise.

Hwang Kil puts a hand on his thigh, which is a bit weird, but Jun doesn’t want to discourage him from singing his praises, so he allows it for now, “They want you to become quiet and unobtrusive. But that isn’t fair is it? But they’ll get rid of you if you don’t.”

Jun looks down, furrowing his brows.

“But I have an idea, Jun,” Hwang Kil continues, letting his hands lift to the back of Jun’s head, “Instead of getting rid of these quirks of yours, we channel your energy into something productive. Something that will help your bandmates, not annoy them. You will become an asset. You will become needed.”

He unclips the harness, and it drops to Jun’s lap. He can breathe fully again, and he takes in an appreciative gulp of air. He quickly brings his hands up to wipe the embarrassingamount of slobber on his chin. His cheeks redden. He must look terrible.

Hwang Kil smiles reassuringly, “Everyone on Seventeen has a purpose right? Is needed for something. What’s your purpose Jun?”

“I dance,” Jun says, and he’s surprised how rusty his jaw feels.

Hwang Kil shakes his head, “Doesn’t everyone?”

“I play the piano,” Jun adds.

Hwang Kil shakes his head again, “You are so easily replaceable.” He doesn’t say it to offend, it sounds more sympathetic, remorseful. He pushes a few strands of Jun’s bangs away from his eyes, “Don’t you want to feel needed? So that Pledis can never pull this nonsense again on you? Don’t you want to serve a purpose to the team?”

Jun hesitates, skin prickling at the words. He’d always thought he fit in fine with the team. But maybe he’d thought wrong. He’d was wrong about a lot of things, apparently. He frowns.

“Okay,” he says.

Hwang Kil squeezes his shoulders, “Then you’ll have to trust me, alright?”

Jun blinks.

“Sometimes I’ll have to do things that seem wrong, but know it’s for your own good. Sometimes I have to play to the camera, for Pledis. But know that the goal here is to make you an asset for the team. Someone Seventeen can rely on, all by showing them love and support, in a better, more productive way.”

“Okay,” Jun nods, a bit more confidently. He keeps his eyes down on his lap, where he’s started fiddling with pajama pants.

He watches as Hwang Kil rips the sheet from the camera. As soon as it’s gone, he admonishes him for covering it and managing to take the harness off and trying to hide. Jun instinctively starts to argue before remembering what Hwang Kil said about playing for the camera. He’s an actor, he knows how to play a part. So, he quickly forces out an apology. He sees Hwang Kil pick up the harness and tenses, waiting for him to put it back on.

Instead Hwang Kil throws it away, and Jun is so thankful to him in that moment. Has never felt more thankful, especially as he sees the kindness glinting in the man’s eyes. “You clearly aren’t ready for this. We’ll need to work you up. But we can’t have you making mischief like you do in the dorms.” Hwang Kil taps at his fidgeting hands, effectively immobilizing them for the moment.

Jun frowns, his skin prickling again as he tries to remember the harsh words are part of Hwang Kil’s act, and that he did promise to trust him, and that he did take the harness away.

He tries to stay still as Hwang Kil secures his arms tightly behind his back, in thick leather gloves, strapped together with rough belts. It pulls his shoulders back, and keeps his chest out, despite how much he wants to curve inward. Hwang Kil whispers in his ear, “Too tight?”

Jun shakes his head, not wanting to be a bother. The words reassure him though, and he glances back at the security camera.

He figures it’s better to have his hands tied up than be unable to speak.

It’ll only be temporary.

* * *

Jihoon looks around the kitchen he’s been escorted to. It’s just as bland as the other rooms he’s been herded through, and just as empty. He opens the fridge and finds it sparse, but there are the essentials. Eggs, milk, butter, to name a few.

He finds rice in a cupboard before Hwang Kil makes his presence known behind him.

“Are you finally feeding us?” Jihoon asks, crossing his arms.

Hwang Kil frowns, “You really are just as Pledis warned.”

Jihoon shuts up, giving the man a stern look.

“Before the program can begin, we need to assess your current abilities. I’d like to see you cook.”

“What?” Jihoon blinks, “That has nothing to do with Seventeen.”

“Oh? I was under the impression you cook for yourselves?”

“Well, Mingyu—”

“Ah, something else you foist on others while locking yourself up in your studio?”

Jihoon keeps quiet.

Hwang Kil sighs, leaning back against the kitchen counter, “Being able to provide and feed for others is important, Jihoon, critical even to assess whether or not you are dependable.”

Jihoon frowns. He scratches the back of his neck, “I’m not, I’m not that good at it.”

“Already admitting defeat? I’m sure your bandmates will be disappointed in going hungry.”

“What?” Jihoon blinks.

“Hmm?” Hwang Kil lifts his head up from his thoughts, “Oh, this was to be their first meal. But it doesn’t look like you care enough to prepare it. I’m trying to figure out the best way to let them know they’ll have to wait until dinner time.”

Jihoon stares at him, “We can order food.”

“We’re not in delivery range of anything. We’re very far from Seoul, Jihoon. But it’s alright, if you’d rather sit in your room and sleep, that’s your decision. You’re free to make it.”

“No,” Jihoon says quickly, too quickly to know exactly where he’s going with it. He turns back to the cupboard and pulls out the bag of rice, to read over the label for instructions.

Hwang Kil smiles, and leaves him to it.

* * *

The cool air that blows in as the door to his room opens makes Soonyoung absolutely moan. He’s still in just his boxers, spread out on the tiled floor, sticky with sweat. He’d tried to take a shower, but found the water was only scalding hot.

Hwang Kil looks down at him, “Are you alright, Soonyoung?”

Soonyoung glares at him, sitting up despite his sticky skin protesting. Droplets of sweat drip down the sides of his face from his plastered hairline, “It’s too hot,” he says, forcing the words through his dry throat.

“Wonwoo insisted you needed it hot to be comfortable?” Hwang Kil muses out-loud with a frown, and Soonyoung decides he’s going to kill Wonwoo. This was no time for pranks. He’s about to yell about it when Hwang Kil offers something else, “Are you thirsty?”

_Yes_, Soonyoung thinks, desperately. He nods quickly reaching out for the bottle Hwang Kil pulls out. Hwang Kil keeps it out of reach, and Soonyoung’s legs feel too much like jelly for him to get up.

“Soonyoung, remember, you need to let other people do things. You can’t just do everything for them. A leader delegates.”

Soonyoung stares at him. He just wants water. What are they even talking about?

“Let me,” Hwang Kil continues, bringing the bottles nozzle to Soonyoung’s mouth. It’s awkward, Soonyoung thinks, to crane his neck up and drink from the bottle like this, without holding it in his own hands and relying on the older man to tilt the bottle for him. But he doesn’t care, because the liquid flowing down his throat tastes _incredible_. It’s almost sweet. The heat must be making him delirious. Hwang Kill is smoothing his sweaty bangs away from his face and Soonyoung can’t help closing his eyes.

And then Hwang Kil takes the bottle away.

Soonyoung’s eyes fly open and he lurches forward, but Hwang Kil calmly takes a step back, “Don’t be greedy, Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung stares at him, had he drunk all of it? It certainly didn’t feel like it. He’s pretty sure he still sees plenty of water sloshing in the bottle. Or is he really that delirious?

“I’ll talk to the facilities manager about the temperature in your room.”

And then he’s gone again, and Soonyoung feels even more tired than before.

* * *

Wonwoo has the sheets wrapped around his shoulders in his bed to prevent from shivering. He’s always been naturally cold. It’s why he has the habit of keeping heat packs in the pockets of all his jackets, just in case. Or why he always tries to wear outfits with gloves for their performances.

But this room seems excessive.

Hwang Kil comes in and smiles, “I see you’re working on your image, this is a much cuddlier version of you.”

Wonwoo can’t help the scowl that comes across his face at the comment. Hwang Kil shakes his head.

“You must be hungry? Forgive me for taking so long, but your bandmates kept me busy.”

Wonwoo perks up at the mention of them and of food. He’s given a bowl of plain rice with an egg on top.It’s not the best, but he hasn’t eaten since he left the dorm a day ago, and so he scarfs it down. It warms him up.Still, it’s not enough to distract him completely, “Where are they?”

“Around,” Hwang Kil concedes, “It’s wonderful to see you worried for them, but I can assure you they’re more than fine.”

Wonwoo grits his teeth, wondering if he really does project so much disregard that Pledis would think he didn’t care at all about his teammates. He frowns at the bowl, pursing his lips, “They’re together right?”

Hwang Kil hums, taking the bowl away.

Wonwoo lets him, although he misses the warmth of the bowl in his hands.

He’s surprised Hwang Kil leaves him then, because he hasn’t been asked to do anything. And weren’t they supposed to be training him? There’s nothing to do in this room than be cold and alone.

He wraps the blankets up tighter around him.


End file.
